


Glass Like Stars

by Zeddembi



Category: As It Is (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Sort Of, Strangers to Friends, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2019-12-26 03:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeddembi/pseuds/Zeddembi
Summary: A steampunk AU! With vampires! And magic! Patty's begun a new chapter of his life, Foley's learning who he is, Ali's adjusting to coastal city life and Ben's up to his pointy ears in secrets. How will four people from entirely different worlds come together to form unbreakable friendships?





	1. o}█{o 4 Dawn 1812 o}█{o

**Author's Note:**

> Quick content warning for stalking. If that’s something that bothers you in any way, feel free to skip about the first third of the chapter. Stay safe \m/

It happens. People don’t mean for it to, but it does. Maybe they had to work late or maybe they stayed at the pub longer than they meant to or maybe they got lost. They’re caught out, wandering a bad area too late into the night. It happens. 

Sometimes it’s fine. Though they’re on edge for the whole journey, they make it home and tuck themselves into bed and try not to dwell on what could’ve happened. 

Sometimes it’s not fine. 

Patty wasn’t sure whether he should keep an even pace and continue to act unaware that anything was amiss or pick it up, possibly prompting whoever was following him to chase him down. Maybe that was what they were waiting for. A bit of excitement. 

He dared not look back to see who they were, tried not to think about what they wanted, but it had been forever since he’d first noticed their shoes clacking against the cobblestones behind him. An eternity since he’d taken a wrong turn too many, leaving the better lit streets that would’ve taken him home and becoming hopelessly lost as he wandered past more and more dark street lamps. This district didn’t pay as many lamplighters as others, Patty guessed. 

It seemed like the footsteps were herding him. Biting at his heels and egging him on into darker and lonelier streets. He’d all but abandoned the hope of finding another train station to get him back on course. If his stalker was in no rush to catch up he must’ve been going in exactly the worst possible direction. 

He finally gave into his anxieties, wondering what they wanted with him. Maybe they were after valuables, hoping for some money and a watch they could sell. Maybe they were a vampire, looking to dine on his soul and leave him a husk. Maybe they were something worse. 

Well, he could test one of those theories. Keeping a casual demeanour, he took his fob watch from his waistcoat pocket, opening it to check the time but finding that it was too dark to see its face. It was a good watch, not at all inexpensive. His parents had given it to him, a celebration of maturity when he turned twenty a few months ago. He’d put a small photograph of his family in the lid when he left home, a way to comfort himself when he missed them. He tried to dig it out with his nail now, but it was stuck fast. 

Internally telling himself to suck it up, he shut the watch and unclipped the chain from his waistcoat. It’d be worthless to him anyway if he was dead. He kept hold of the chain when he dropped the watch, releasing it last to lessen the watch’s impact when it hit the ground. 

The clatter of metal against cobblestones echoed through the night and his bones and he kept walking, eyes never straying from the bridge ahead of him. He guessed that by the time he reached it the stalker would get to the watch. The district across the canal was darker still than this one, he noticed with a sinking heart. No lit street lamps and, at this hour, no dim lights in the windows of any of the buildings there. 

Nearly holding his breath as he neared the bridge, he listened for a change in the stalker’s footfalls, any sign that they’d stopped to pick up the watch. He kept walking, crossing the bridge and praying to the Rings that they’d just take the watch and let him go. 

Relief washed over him when at last their footfalls faltered. He tried not to look around to see what they were doing, speeding up to get over the bridge. 

On the other side, he glanced down a road and turned. Running on cobblestone in his heeled dress shoes wasn’t easy, but he made an effort. Keeping on the balls of his feet as much as possible helped, though it was much too loud. He slowed his pace. No point in trying to shake off his stalker if he made it so easy for them to follow the sound of his footsteps. 

Heart sinking in his chest, he strained his ears. He could hear someone walking behind him. 

Desperately throwing off the last of his caution, he ducked into an alley and hurried down it until he came to a small crossroads. At a glance, he went right and quietly headed for a clutter of bins, crouching behind them and listening with bated breath. 

The unrushed footfalls of his stalker grew louder as they made their way down the alley, stopping at the crossroads. Patty pressed a hand over his mouth to keep from hyperventilating as they began again, then smothered a sob when he realised they were getting louder and louder. 

He looked up when they finally stopped at the bins and saw the large stranger standing above him. They looked up and down the alley before addressing him. 

“You picked a nice spot,” they said, pulling a knife from their belt. 

Tears pricked at Patty’s eyes. 

“Not too many prying eyes here. Not even the Rings can see us.” They crouched and grabbed a handful of Patty’s hair, pressing the knife to his throat. “Still, better not scream, ey? There’s less friendly than me around here.” 

The impact of someone’s feet hitting the ground behind his attacker startled Patty. He felt the knife bite into him briefly and pressed a hand to the wound when his attacker stood and whipped around to point it at this new stranger, who rose from a crouched position. 

“Like me, for example,” the stranger affirmed. 

In a blink-and-you'll-miss-it motion, they launched themself at his attacker, grabbing their knife hand and darting around to yank it behind their back and wrench it upwards. The attacker's scream pierced the cold night as a loud pop echoed between the brick walls of the alley. The stranger easily wrestled them to the ground and kicked the knife away when it fell, holding the back of their neck tightly. 

A dull red glow penetrated the stranger's white sleeve, growing brighter until Patty could make out the shapes of shining tattoos. He scrambled back into the wall behind him as the designs blazed and he realised that the stranger was sucking out the stalker's energy. 

A vampire. 

At least it would probably kill him faster than the stalker would have. Even if it didn't, he wouldn't have to worry about feeling anything ever again. The thought wasn't comforting enough to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling over. 

As the vampire sapped away their strength and emotions, tattoos reaching a glaring white, the stalker's cries died down. Had the vampire finally consumed their pain or were they simply too weak to scream anymore? 

In the light of its tattoos, Patty could see long blond hair, flowing freely and hiding probably pointed ears, and shadows around the vampire's eyes, its eyelids blackened as if frostbitten and dead, fading to red towards the edges of its eye sockets. A tell-tale characteristic of a hungry vampire, though it was a little different to how Patty had always imagined it as a child. As he watched, the shadows receded, seeping back to its eyelids until they disappeared completely. 

The vampire's tattoos remained bright as the stalker‘s weak resistance came to an end, finally lying still as Patty's fear mounted. This one had an appetite and no apparent desire to stop at one course. Tattoos at last fading back to a red glow, the vampire released the stalker's neck, rising and turning to Patty. 

“No.” More tears overflowed, streaking down his cheeks as the vampire approached him and he raised his hands in futility. “No, please don't-” 

The vampire crouched before him, grabbing his wrist and nearly crushing it in its grasp as Patty’s vision went dark and all noise faded away. The terror drained from Patty and he stopped crying. 

It must've been a good sign that he had it in him to be surprised when his sight and hearing returned. The vampire, who was now standing by the stalker's body, hadn't completely drained him after all. 

When he tried to push himself off the ground, a stab of pain shot through his wrist, making him grunt. 

The vampire turned to look at him. “Sorry. Spur-of-the-moment thing, I couldn't resist the smell.” 

“What?” 

The vampire leaned down, holding out a hand. “We should leave. This is a bad area.” 

Patty didn't know why he he took its hand, letting it lift him to his feet. 

“I'm not much of a fighter,” it explained, looking at its hand when it released Patty's and wiping the blood off on its dark waistcoat, “If too many people come, I won't be able to protect you.” 

“Protect me?” Dusting himself off, Patty looked down at the stalker. “What, your thing is going around saving helpless people from scary bad guys with knives?” He winced at his tone. It wouldn't do to antagonise a vampire. 

It didn't kill him for his snark, instead lacing and arm through his and leading him down the alley. “I don't have a thing. I was hungry and you two were in the area.” 

Patty shrugged. “Well, thanks anyway. I'm glad you were there.” 

“No problem.” The vampire glanced at him. “I'm Ben, by the way. What’s your name?” 

“Patty.” He immediately cursed himself for giving his name so easily. A nickname, sure, but it wasn't like there were a million things “Patty” could be short for. 

They slowed as the vampire looked around the corner, checking up and down the street before walking them out. 

“Do you live around here? I'll walk you home.” 

“I'm staying with some friends in the Reed District.” Patty huffed at himself indignantly. Maybe he should try _begging_ the vampire to bleed him and everyone he knew dry. 

Ben gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, again. I think I took too much of your fear. You should probably expect to have slightly lowered inhibitions or something for a few days.” 

“By the _Rings_ ,” Patty remarked. That’s what he did? 

Ben smiled a little at that as they came to the bridge Patty and the stalker had crossed to get into the district. He wanted to be terrified, he knew he should've been, but he couldn't find it within himself to sensibly fear Ben. 

“Why _did_ you take my fear?” 

“Like I said, it kind of just happened. I was in a bit of a high from drinking so much all at once and you smelled...well, delicious, to be honest. I wasn't thinking.” 

Patty nodded. A vampire couldn’t be expected to have much self control. 

“Anyway, I live much closer than you. It would be safer if you stayed the night and I took you home in the morning. Would you be okay with that?” 

Patty considered Ben’s offer. Stay at his place and possibly never see the sun again, or lead him home and risk the souls of everyone he was staying with. He hadn't known his housemates long, but he quickly decided they didn't deserve that. 

“That sounds good, if it's not a big deal.” 

“Not at all.” 

What a relief. Patty would hate to be an inconvenient prey. 

As he looked up at the stars and the silver rings haloing the southern horizon, he casually wondered if he would still find them beautiful when he was devoid of all feeling. He supposed he wouldn't have to wonder for long. Ben wasn't really going to let him leave with his soul intact. He wished he could at least feel a bit worried. 

The streets became better lit as they crossed canals and passed bigger and bigger buildings, to Patty's surprise. He’d been expecting Ben to take him to some rundown dump, but these districts were surprisingly…fine. Most of the street lamps here had flames flickering away inside and a few houses had window boxes full of lush greenery. It wasn't all that different to the Reed District. 

“Not long now,”” Ben assured him. 

“Hey, if you live here, what were you doing all the way out where I was?” 

Ben didn't respond right away, as if he was thinking his answer over carefully. “I followed you there,” he finally admitted, “Well, I smelled your friend first hours ago. Knew they were bad news, but I didn't want to do anything somewhere I might get caught, so I kept my distance at first. Eventually they found you. I was waiting for them to take you somewhere quiet, but I suppose they were fine with letting you get yourself lost.” 

Patty gave him an indignant look. “I was trying to find a train station.” 

“Then you went in completely the wrong direction. Nothing but gangs and shitholes out there.” 

“I got that idea,” Patty said icily. 

Ben glanced at him. “I’m sorry. I know you were scared, I should've caught up sooner. Anyway, their plan definitely worked for me. I was waiting for an opportunity like that too.” 

Patty considered what Ben had said. “I was hungry and you two were in the area,” he quoted. 

“Sometimes a hunt goes longer than you expect,” he replied shortly, “He _was_ in the area, until he left and I followed him out of it. This one's mine.” 

They abruptly left the road as Ben lead them up the doorsteps of an ordinary house like every other on the street, withdrawing his arm from Patty's to fish around in his trousers’ pocket for its key. He unlocked the door, holding it open for Patty to go in first. 

After a final look at the sky, Patty went into the dark house and felt a wave of sadness wash through him as Ben closed and locked the door behind them. Would this be his last night as himself or would Ben keep him chained up in the cellar, to be leached off of over months or years? 

“I'll get a candle.” Ben left Patty alone in the darkness of the entryway. 

Blinking and peering into the house, Patty listened to Ben rummaging through a drawer somewhere. The glow of the promised candle, stuck on a saucer, hailed his return. 

“Come on. You can have the bedroom to yourself.” 

Looking around as he followed Ben, Patty noticed how normal the house seemed. The hallway, at least, was clean and pleasant, not full of the expected peeling wallpaper and rot of a vampire den. 

“Toilet's in there,” Ben informed him, gesturing to a doorway before heading up the stairs. Not down the stairs. It was nice of him to be locking Patty up in the attic instead of the cellar, he supposed. 

Ben led him into a bedroom just off the landing at the top of the stairs. As they walked in, he took a framed photograph on the bedside table and flipped it down, not giving Patty a chance to see what it was of. It had never really occurred to Patty that vampires might keep photographs, or even have personal lives they liked to keep private. He wondered who was in the photograph that Ben didn't want him to see. A favourite victim, perhaps? 

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Patty took in the room. It looked exactly like any normal master bedroom, to his continued surprise. Tightly drawn curtains hid large windows, a little moonlight illuminating white floral designs, and the bed was sizeable with nightstands on either side and a chest at the foot. Apparently vampires liked comfort. 

“You can have the bed, if you like,” Ben told him, “Bathroom’s through that door and there are clean clothes in the wardrobe. I doubt any of it will fit you, but it’s something clean to sleep in, at least.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Patty finally asked, looking Ben in the eye. 

Ben didn’t hold his gaze. “Well, I couldn't just leave you alone out there could I?” He answered, gesturing to the window, “Something would've happened to you.” 

“Why the facade?” he persisted, “If you’re gonna suck out my soul or lock me up for later, just do it. You don't have to act like you care about my safety.” 

In the low candlelight, Ben's expression grew cold. “I'm not going to do any of that. Whatever you think you know about me, I do care about your safety and I will help you however I can until you get home. If you don't want that, you can walk out the door whenever you like.” He set the saucer by the overturned photograph and turned to leave. “Otherwise, I’ll be in the study downstairs if you need anything and I'll see you in the morning.” 

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Patty to wonder if he was telling the truth. He seemed offended by Patty's assumption, but he _was_ a vampire and probably a master of manipulation. 

Maybe it didn't matter. He was exhausted and had no idea which way home was. He’d just get lost again, and if someone unsavoury decided he was interesting there would be no one else to stop them. 

He went to the wardrobe and opened it. If Ben was telling the truth he'd give him directions in the morning. If not, he was probably waiting for Patty to try to leave so he could jump out at the last second and drag him kicking and screaming into the cellar just to play with him, like a cat and its meal. 

When he'd picked out an undershirt, he took it and the candle into the bathroom. There weren’t any lamps in here, just a sun globe in the ceiling, useless at night. He set the candle down by the sink and undressed. 

Ben would probably torture him. He'd heard that vampires liked to feed on pain and Ben had already said he'd found Patty's fear to be irresistible. He'd break his bones one by one until he ran out, then he'd pull out his teeth. Whenever a bone healed he'd break it again and drink up the agony. 

Patty plugged the bath and pulled the lever on the wall a few times, the tap pumping out water with each tug. No hot water this late, either. When there was enough water in the bath to reach his ankles he stepped in, sitting on the edge and taking soap and a sponge from their shelf. He scrubbed away the dirt and sweat from his body, shivering in the darkness. _Rings_ , it was cold. 

He supposed it wasn't all bad. He'd be in pain for a while, but Ben would feed on it and then it would be gone. It's not like he'd need his bones intact if he was going to be trapped here for the rest of his considerably shortened life anyway. 

When he reached his neck he winced, remembering the cut. He got up and went to the bathroom mirror to examine it, wrapping a towel around his waist. He dabbed at the dried blood, shivering as water dripped down his body. With the excess blood cleared away it was tiny. Just a nick, really. It had sealed on its own and probably wouldn’t need any help healing if he left it alone. 

He drained the bath, towelled off, redressed in his briefs and the undershirt he’d borrowed and went back to the bedroom with his old clothes and the candle. He immediately spotted the turned corner of the bedsheets that had been neatly tucked in when Patty and Ben first came in. Suspicious, he lifted the corner and was once again surprised. Dropping his clothes on the bed to free his hand, he reached out to touch a hot wheat bag, left square in the middle of the bed to warm the sheets. Ben must’ve come back when he was in the bathroom. That was...considerate of him. 

Feeling a little bad, Patty folded his clothes and put them on the chest. He climbed into the warm bed and remembered the photograph. It was tempting. Ben was going to do much worse than look through Patty's personal belongings, wasn’t he? He was a _vampire_ , that’s what they did. Why shouldn't Patty look? 

He reached for the ovular frame but hesitated at the guilt that stirred in him. Ben _had_ been good to him so far, even to the point of letting him borrow his clothes and sleep in his bed. 

Patty blew out the low candle and turned onto his other side, pulling up the sheets and gazing at the moonlit curtains. It took a long time for his mind to still enough that he could fall asleep. 


	2. o}█{o 5 Dawn 1812 o}█{o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: gratuitous workout and bathing scenes ahead >:))

It was a nice watch. Not one of those ridiculous gold-plated watches with sapphires and shit all over the joint, but still a well-crafted piece with engraved designs and a fancy chain. Silver-plated, judging by the burns it had given Ben when he’d blindly pulled it from the shit-stain’s pocket. 

Fingers bandaged, he now handled it with a handkerchief, examining it in the moonlight seeping through the study window. There was a bit of a dent on the rim at around the six thirty mark, but aside from that it looked almost brand new and would certainly fetch a good price.

Upon opening it, though, Ben noticed a photograph in the lid. A family of four stared up at him, the solemn face of the blond sitting at the front looking particularly familiar. It must’ve been a recent photograph. Patty still looked exactly the same. The other people were probably his parents and a sibling. 

Ben closed the watch and set it aside. He’d return it to Patty in the morning. The loss made a dent in tonight’s haul, but he still had the scumbag’s money and a sellable knife. 

Sleep was never possible right after a feeding. Ben found that all the foreign energy rushing through his body kept him awake as it soaked in, repairing dying tissue and bone as it melded with his own energy. He’d spent enough long nights staring at the ceiling, trying to let Clara’s dreams lull him, but now he just went downstairs to train. 

The cellar used to be crowded with shelves for food and wine, but he’d gotten rid of most of them and pushed the remaining few against the walls, clearing a reasonable floor space dotted with easily avoided support columns. He’d then laid thin, second-hand mattresses and ratty old carpets over the floor to soften any falls. 

Ben stripped down to his undergarments, leaving his clothes on an empty shelf. He’d learned a hard lesson early on about how despite his body being able to handle hours of stress and sweat, his clothes were still normal, fragile clothes. 

As he stretched in preparation, he considered the room. He never used the sandbag at night, it was much too noisy. Maybe he’d start with push-ups this time. Before the tattoos, he’d never been able to do more than two and a half at a time, his very casually attitude to exercise being no small hindrance. Now he had to do them with one arm to feel like they were doing anything for him. 

He propped his feet up on a lower shelf and started counting out, think of Patty, finally asleep upstairs. Why the fuck had Ben brought him to his _house?_ Great plan, Ben. He’s going to go out tomorrow and tell everyone _Hey, this scary vampire lured me into his house and tried to eat my soul last night! Let’s go smash his windows!_ The cathedral was in the next district, why hadn’t he just taken him there? 

Ben switched arms, silently cursing himself and Patty’s alien emotional presence upstairs. _Patty._ Of course he’d have a cute, innocent-sounding name to go with the face. Ben had met plenty of those types as a child. Fucking snitches and teachers’ pets, all of them. Patty probably couldn’t wait to tell the police about the creep Ben drained tonight. 

Or maybe he could. Ben sighed, taking his feet off the shelf and rolling onto his back to do sit-ups. His emotional climate was all over the shop, but Patty _had_ spent most of the night lost and afraid. Of course he’d be suspicious of Ben, even he weren’t a dirty blood-sucker. Maybe he’d wake up just feeling grateful to be alive. 

When enough morning light streamed through the tiny cellar windows that Ben had to squint to see, he finished up and took a box of dried fruit to the kitchen. Tasting the air, he noted that Patty still seemed to be asleep upstairs. It wouldn’t be right to wake him yet. He needed the rest. 

Still, Ben needed to get dressed. With practiced stealth, he went upstairs and slipped into the bedroom, sensing no change in Patty as he opened the wardrobe to take out a clean habit. He left as silently as he came, grabbing a few towels from the linen cupboard on the way back to the kitchen. 

The upstairs bath would be too loud, so the sink would have to do. Ben pumped the water lever, checking the temperature with a hand as the cold water in the pipes emptied. By now, the sun had been out long enough for warm water to be available. He filled the sink and laid a towel in front of it to soak up the water that fell as he sponges himself down. 

As he washed, he felt Patty slowly stir. He finished up quickly, drying himself as Patty woke up and felt put out for a moment before realisation hit. Ben pulled on his trousers and shoes, hearing him get up and come downstairs. He tasted surprise and felt eyes on his back as he drained the sink. 

“I left a pot of oats to soak last night,” he said over his shoulder, gesturing to the stove as he pulled on a black button-up shirt, “Could you heat them up and put the kettle on?”

“Sure.” Patty got the kettle and filled it at the sink, then went back to the stove, pulling the heat lever on the wall and turning the dials up. “Porridge for breakfast?” 

“Wasn’t much feeling like raw meat today,” Ben replied sarcastically, shrugging on his hooded cassock. 

“ _Can_ you eat raw meat?”

“Dunno. I don’t eat _any_ meat.”

“Vegetarian?”

Ben threaded a belt through the loops around the cassock’s waist. “Vegan.”

Patty’s vibes jumped. “Hey, me too!” He went quiet, surprise and confusion permeating the air. “Is that a priest habit?” 

Ben pulled the belt right. “Yes.”

“How did you get that?” 

“By becoming a priest.” He took a chopping board from its shelf. 

“You’re not a priest,” Patty argued, “They don’t let vampires become priests.”

“Says who?” Ben gave him a pointed look as he turned around to put the chopping board and a knife on the island bench. His eyes fell on the cut on Patty’s neck. He’d forgotten about that. It would need care. 

There was another pause as Patty stared at him, eyes wide. 

“You alright there?” 

Patty blinked and went back to stirring the porridge. “Yeah, fine, it’s just...” He gestured to his own face. “Eyes.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ben took some jars of fruit from the box. “Right.” Slitted pupils. They’d be wide in this light, but still inhuman. 

He tasted guilt. 

“I’m sorry,” Patty said, “I’ve just never met a vampire before.” 

“Do I live up to your expectations?”

“Not really.” 

Ben raised his eyebrows at the fruit he was cutting. 

“I mean, the ones they show in books are just horrifying,” he rushed, “Peeling skin, huge fangs, lairs in abandoned buildings full of corpses...”

“They like picking the worst ones to be poster boys for the rest of us. Makes it easier to think of us as monsters and not people just trying to get by like everyone else, I suppose. That porridge smells about done.” 

Pushing the lever on the wall, Patty cut off the heat and used a tea towel to carry the pot, then the kettle to the bench. Ben took out a ladle, teabags, bowls and spoons, setting spots for them both and pulling out a stool. They ate in silence. 

When they were done, Ben took their bowls to the sink and refilled it, this time with hot water.

“I’ll was if you dry,” Patty offered. 

“Sure.” Ben collected the rest of the dishes and set them by the sink, getting himself a tea towel to dry the washed bowl that Patty handed him. 

“I really am sorry,” Patty said, “You’ve nothing but generous and you saved my life. I’ve been such an ungrateful dick.”

“I’m used to it,” Ben replied, putting the bowl in its cupboard, “By the way, I should look at that cut on your neck.”

“So you can prove you’re a real priest?” Patty joked.

“I _am_ a real priest, but no, I’m not trying to prove it. It needs to be patched up properly.”

Patty nodded. “I guess, if you want to.”

The finished the dishes and Ben directed him to the living room while he took a medicine box down from a shelf. 

“Just lie back on the chaise and try not to move around,” he said, setting the box down and pulling a chair over. 

As Patty sat back, Ben took out a selection of bottles and tools from the box and set them out on the stand beside the chaise. “Have you had shots for tetanus and all that?”

“Yeah.”

Ben nodded. “Good.” He opened the disinfecting alcohol and pressed a cotton swab to the mouth with a set of forceps, giving the bottle a small shake to dampen it.

“What happened to your hand?” Patty eyed the bandages on Ben’s fingers.

Ben put the bottle on the stand and gently dabbed at the wound, tasting the way it stung and made Patty wince. “Burned it on your watch last night. It’s in the study, by the way.”

Patty’s vibes jumped. “You have my watch?” 

“Scumbag had it on them.” As he wiped away dried blood, the wound reopened. 

“Yeah, I dropped it. I’d hoped they’d take it and leave me alone.”

Ben scoffed, discarding the swab and taking a bottle of antiviral. “Bad idea. You only made yourself look like a meatier target. They probably assumed you’d have more money on you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Patty winced at the ceiling again as Ben pulled the cut open a little and dripped antiviral into it. “Rings, I nearly died. If you hadn’t been there…” He didn’t need to vocalise the gratitude that suddenly radiated from him. 

Ben cut a strip of adhesive dressing. Discounted professional-grade medical gear was one of the few great perks that came with priesthood. 

Patty watched him turn it into a butterfly bandage, impressed. “I guess you _are_ a real priest.”

Ben smiled as he cleaned away the fresh blood and stuck the bandage on. “First aid like this is easy. I’m actually teaching it at the cathedral this year.” He taped a dressing pad over the wound. “There you are.” 

Patty sat up and touched the bandage as he loaded gear back into the box. He grinned. “Thank you, Brother.”

“No problem.” Ben got up and offered Patty a hand. I’ll get your watch for you.” 

Patty accepted his hand and stood. “I’ll get it. Don’t want you to get burned again.”

They went to the study, Ben getting his briefcase and Patty gushing with gratitude as he looked the watch over. He went upstairs to get changed and Ben put away the medical box and went to the entryway to get his mask and hat from the hat stand.

He’d made the mask just eight months ago, the final step to earning his priesthood. The beak was modelled after a crow, his favourite bird when he was a kid, and he’d used tinted lenses for the goggles to help him see in bright light. 

He waited for Patty in the living room, tucking his hair into his collar. As he came back downstairs, Ben strapped on the mask and pulled his hood on. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice unmuffled thanks to the mask’s enchantments. 

“Yeah.” Patty laughed a little. “ _Now_ you look like a real priest.”

Ben shook his head and smiled as the went back to the entryway, donning his wide-brimmed hat. “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you doing out last night?” he asked, opening the door for Patty.

“I was just saying bye to my parents and sister. They helped me move into the flat I’m sharing yesterday.” He stretched his arms in the warm morning light as Ben locked the door behind them. “ We had a pretty late dinner at a pub, so it’d been dark for ages by the time we got back to the station.”

“You’re new around here, then?” Even with his tinted lenses, Ben had to squint in the light. If not for the habit covering every inch of it, his skin would be boiling within a few minutes of this. 

Patty nodded. 

“So, your accent and piercings,” He glance at the black plugs in his earlobes and silver nose ring as they set off for the Reed District. “You’re Paethi?” 

“Yeah, but my family moved here when my sister and I were little.”

“ _Niha wasdess bingzah tfessa bingzah zongang._ ”

“ _Boy hkingza zah,_ ” Patty returned, suprised, “You speak Common Paethi?”

“My parents made sure I went to a good school the moment I turned ten. Got caned if my vocabulary wasn’t good enough at the end of each month.”

“ _Rings,_ ” Patty muttered, “My sister and I didn’t go to school. Our parents think the physical punishments they hand out are bullshit excuses to abuse vulnerable kids.”

“I think they’re onto something there,” Ben said, smiling to himself. For the most part, canings only ever made him better at lying, cheating and not getting caught. 

“What else did you do at school?”

“Loads of stuff. Mathematics, literature, music, history, various sciences and magics. They kept us busy.”

“Wow. Did that help you with your priesthood?”

“Yeah. Normally it takes years to study for, but they counted my grades towards it and had me take priesthood-specific classes for the last few years. I got it last year when I turned twenty.”

“You came of age last year? Me too! When’s your birthday?”

“The fourth of Rings.”

“Right after the summer solstice! Mine’s on the thirteenth of Chills.”

“A bit before the autumn equinox.”

“My _favourite_ holiday!” Patty said, grinning, “I love Harvest festival aesthetics, even if the weather kinda sucks.”

Though they eventually crossed the canal into the Reed district and Patty, recognising the area, took the lead, they kept talking. Patty’s sunny disposition was infectious and Ben found himself laughing and joking more than he had in awhile. Regret twinged at him when they reached his flat and knocked on the door. 

Ben was surprised to recognise the man who opened the door. 

“Oh! Brother Ben! _Patty!_ ”

Patty glance between them. “You guys know each other?”

“Brother Ben gave me and Ali a tour of the cathedral a few days ago,” the man explained. He bowed to Ben. “Good to see you again, Brother.”

Ben returned the bow. “You too...um...sorry…” 

“Foley,” he supplied. 

“That’s right,” he said, as if the name rang a single bell. 

Foley turned back to Patty. “We got worried last night. Did you stop by the cathedral?”

“Uh, no, I-”

“He got lost,” Ben cut in, “He came to the cathedral and stayed with us.”

He smelled surprised, but thankfully Patty nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I got lost.”

“ _Is that Patty?_ ” A bearded man in glasses came up behind Foley. “Oh! Good morning, Brother.”

Ben bowed again. “Good morning.” He gave Patty’s shoulder a pat. “I suppose I’ll see you around, then. Oh, and I don’t have a single full class, so I could take you on for first aid, if you like.”

“I’ll think about it,” Patty promised, “ _Huut hatuumz dazah!_ And thank you so much for everything!”

The Reed District district was adjacent to the Cathedral District and most of it was owned by the Church of the Rings. Even from here, Ben could see the tallest towers, topped by solar collectors, piercing the sky to the north. As he walked, he pretended to be praying. Another perk of being a priest, you could bow your head and put hands together and nobody would try to strike up a conversation with you. 

Today was a short day at the cathedral for him. He only had a few tours for new students scheduled, a job popularly assigned to new priests regardless of whether they wanted to spend the month of Dawn traipsing about the district, trying to teach inattentive new students where to find administration, their classrooms, the main fucking chapel _directly across the district garden, that huge building over there, you can’t miss it,_ the library and whatever else. The least they could do was pay attention, but apparently they had better thing to do. 

The tours dragged by. He tried to keep up a mildly amiable persona with the people whose name were on his class lists, though they didn’t care to make it easy. A woman who introduced herself as Trisha had some questions that caught him off guard. 

“May we see where your lecture hall is?” she asked, “I can’t find the room number on my schedule.”

“Uh...mine hasn’t been assigned yet,” Ben answered, “The first aid courses are minor subjects and majors take priority, so I’m still waiting on the details myself.” Though personally he felt that they should’ve had it all organised last year. He lead the group away from the medical centre. “I’ll most likely share a few small classrooms with other priests back in that block, but that shouldn’t affect you.”

“Are you passionate about first aid?”

The fuck kind of question was that? It wasn’t bloody visual arts. “I think it’s an essential skill everyone should have,” he said neutrally, “You never know when someone might break an ankle or get bitten by something. Anyway, this is the hospitality block, the mess hall’s right through the front doors.”

It was a relief when he waved off the last group of the day, wishing them a great year and silently thanking the Rings that he could finally leave too. Sister Bethany caught him on the way out of admin.

“Brother Ben!”

Ben returned her bow, internally telling her to sod off. “Sister.” 

“Saint Cormary’s Children’s Home sent a letter. Brother Theodore’s holding onto it.”

 _Fuck._ “A letter for me specifically?” 

She nodded. “Dunno what it’s about, but you should probably pick it up soon.”

“I will,” he promised, like a liar. He was done with Church business for the day. Fuck Saint Cormary and Fuck the Children’s Home. 

He headed for his favourite fence, next. Jim gave him a fair price for the knife. Crumbs, but better crumbs than anyone else paid and they came with none of the questions someone more legitimate might care to ask. They were enough for a round trip to the Seal District, at least. 

He watched the sun set through the train windows, still pretending to pray and trying not to spare any thoughts to his past with the district. He hadn’t missed it in the months since he’d left. It was dark by the time the train arrived at the district, but the streets were etched into his brain like nothing else. He headed straight for the temple of the heathen goddess of seals, Bavashi. 

A few stragglers lingered at the entrance, probably hoping to get one last prayer in as the doors shut. He didn’t need the attention of devotees wondering what a priest of the Rings was doing out here this late. 

He slipped into a narrow alley, heading for a favourite wall. When he was younger, he’d had to climb it by worming his fingers into tiny handholds in the brickwork and struggling his way up, but now he only had to run at it, launch himself partway up and grab the edge of the roof. He hauled himself up and went to the windows that looked into the large throne room. 

From here, he could see a handmaiden clearing offerings from the altar in the middle of the room and the goddess, a humanoid mass of golden glow, watching from her throne. As the handmaiden left with a large fish, Ben opened the window and slipped in. He dropped to the floor in front of the goddess, kneeling and bowing his head in reverence. 

“Goddess.”

“ _Ben!_ ” Bavashi exclaimed, “Gods, it’s been a minute! You’ve got manners now, is that what adulthood brought you? Along with a gods-awful fucking outfit.”

Ben grinned, looking up at her. “Apparently.”

“Well let’s see the mask, then,” she said, holding her hands out. 

Ben stood, taking off his hat and hood to reach the mask’s straps. He shook his hair out, enjoying the cool sea air on his neck after all those hours of stuffy discomfort. 

Without the enchanted lenses of his goggles, Bavashi looked like a large, heavily tattooed woman adorned in jewellery, silks and furs. Designs in red body paint swirled over her face and mingled with the visible ink. 

Ben handed her the mask, making himself comfortable on one of the throne’s arms as she examined it. “I’ll say one thing for the awful fucking outfit, it’s handy to be able to walk around during the day without burning or having rocks thrown at me.”

Bavashi looked up at him. “Appalling that anyone would think to do that. Vampirism looks good on you.” She turned the mask over and put it to her face, looking around the room. “How are you finding it? Everything working?”

“Seems to be. All my old symptoms have disappeared and no new ones are showing up. I get a bit stiff when I need to feed, but that goes away pretty quickly afterwards.”

Bavashi handed his mask back and pushed herself up from the throne. “I’m nothing if not the greatest tattoo artist alive.”

Ben followed her to a backdoor and out to the temple garden. “The priest who was working with me said he’d never seen vampirism reverse it so fast or so completely before. Thought I’d made a bit of a miracle recovery.” 

Bavashi smiled back at him. “Well what else are gods for?”

As they passed a gardner stopped pruning a tree by the tiled pool and bowed. 

“Evening, Todd,” Ben greeted.

“Little Ben Biss! Welcome back!”

“Langford-Biss, now,” he corrected, ignoring the pang he felt, “Have a good night!” 

At the far end of the garden, they went into Bavashi’s private chambers. Her favourite handmaiden, Alexa, was setting the table with fruits and fish, probably fresh from the altar. She looked up as they approached. 

“Will _Brother Ben_ be staying for dinner?”

Bavashi looked at Ben. 

“Love to,” he answered. 

Alexa bowed and left. 

“It’s odd, too,” Ben said, recalling their conversation as he pulled out a chair for Bavashi, “I knew I’d be able to sense emotions, but sometimes it’s like I can read minds. Feels almost like cheating.”

“Good thing you’ve never had a problem with that.”

Ben smiled, fetching himself a chair from the corner. 

“Tell me about the cathedral! Any gossip?”

“They haven’t let me read everything yet, but there are plenty of files for every god in the city,” he told her as Alexa reappeared with a plate, goblet and cutlery for him, “The words “salty whore” get thrown around a lot whenever your name comes up, though.”

Bavashi scoffed, holding their goblets up for Alexa to fill with wine. “That’s only half true. I reserve myself for favourites.”

Ben gasped as she passed him his goblet, feigning betrayal. “I’m not your favourite anymore?”

“I am,” Alexa declared, taking her seat.

Unsurprised, Ben raised his goblet to her. “Congratulations.”

She pouted, serving herself a fish. “You’re not jealous?”

Shaking his head and smiling, Ben drank what was probably the most expensive wine he’d ever had. “Though I might’ve been, two years ago,” he admitted. Another pang made him grimace. So much had changed. 

Bavashi gave him a sympathetic look before changing the subject. “How’s that ring? Wreaked any havoc yet?”

Ben looked at the black ring on his finger, Bavashi’s wedding gift to him. “It’s taken some practice. I’ve mainly been freezing things midair at home, just getting used to how it works.”

To demonstrate, he took a grape from the spread, threw it high in the air, held his hand to it and focussed on it _stopping._ It completely stilled a few inches above the table. 

Alexa reached out to take it. “Oh! Had a bit of kick in it.”

“Frozen things keep all the force they had before they froze,” Ben explained, “Once something touches them, they go back to doing whatever they were doing before. Works on liquids too, but I won’t show you that in here.” He smiled pointedly at Alexa, who rolled her eyes. 

“How gracious of you.” 

“Such a scientist,” Bavashi commented, “All these months and you don’t have any funny stories to tell me? Whatever happened to my favourite rascal?”

“Your favourite rascal used to get caught,” Ben reminded her, “For now, I’m keeping a low profile, building a reputation as someone who would _never_ fill another priest’s desk with seaweed.”

Bavashi sighed dramatically. “But that’s _boring._ ”

“I’ll write you when things get interesting,” he promised. Who knows, maybe it will be a _very_ interesting year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment with any questions you have about the world, the characters, the story, anything! I love talking about this stuff (and they also help me fill in holes in the world-building)


	3. o}█{o 15 Dawn 1812 o}█{o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey, chapter three is finally here babey

“Here’s the paper,” Ali said, passing it to Patty on the way to the kitchen with the milk. 

“Thanks.”

Foley had already set out a selection of ingredients and was whisking some eggs. “I’m thinking omelettes! I’ve never made them before, but it can’t be too hard, can it?” He looked up as Patty came in. “How does that sound, Patty?”

“Oh, I don’t eat eggs,” he said apologetically.

“Oh, right, sorry…”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, “I can fix something up for myself.”

“I’ve made omelettes before,” Ali told Foley, “Do you want help?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I’ll cut up some of these vegetables,” Patty offered, setting the newspaper down on the counter, “I’ll need some for my breakfast too.”

Ali showed Foley the settings he normally used on the stove, giving him a rundown of what he needed to do. Patty seemed distracted, only glancing at the vegetables he was cutting as he read the newspaper with a furrowed brow. 

“By the Rings, a vampire was murdered in the Sand District a few days ago. They’re only just releasing details.”

Ali took some of the cut vegetables and put them in a bowl. “What’s it say?”

“Severed tendons, stab wounds all over their chest, none deep enough to be immediately fatal. They say the wounds were made with a silver blade and their energy would’ve bled out through them. They were found in their bed.”

“That’s fucked up,” Foley commented, “Even if they were a vampire, killing them slowly in their own bed is…”

“Vampires are pretty strong though,” Ali said, “The killer probably thought they wouldn’t stand a chance in a fair fight.”

“Yeah. Wonder if it ate someone they cared about.”

“That’s a shitty assumption,” Patty cut in harshly.

Ali looked at him in surprise. “Well...I mean, they _were_ a vampire.”

“Not all vampires are like that.”

Ali and Foley glanced at each other. Patty had never been short with them before. He went back to showing Foley how to add the vegetables the the first omelette. 

They made a few with mixed success (Don’t worry about it, they’ll still taste alright.”) and enjoyed them with the morning’s milk delivery, the mood lightening when Patty read about the predictions for fishing this year. 

“Visionaries are saying it might be a tough year for food.”

“Don’t need to be a visionary to know that,” Foley said, “We’ve been having problems for ages. My mum got into pearls years ago cuz she worried the fishing boats might have to start letting people go.”

“Your mom’s in fishing?”

Foley nodded. “All my family are. My parents wanted me to get an education because there aren’t as many jobs on the docks as there used to be, so we’ve all been saving for me to go to the cathedral. Think they’re hoping I’ll become a priest myself.”

“What do you want to do?” Ali asked.

Foley shrugged. “I’m kind of taking a few different things to see what I like at the moment. Don’t really have a lot of plans.”

“Fair enough,” Patty said, “It’s good to keep your options open.”

Ali looked at his pocket watch. “Suppose I’ll be off soon.”

Patty stood, collecting their empty dishes. “Work?”

“Not today. I’m going to the Cathedral District.”

“Is it okay if I tag along? I’ve been meaning to stop by.”

“Uh, yeah mate, sure.”

“Great!”

They cleaned up together, then split off to get dressed. 

Foley came to Ali as he was getting his hat and coat from the stand in the hallway. “Hey, if you see Brother Ben…”

Ali tilted his head. “What’s up?”

Foley glanced back to make sure they were alone. “Could you…” He looked down and lowered his voice. “...ask about how much reading they do in the first aid courses?” 

“Yeah, alright mate.” He gave Foley’s shoulder a pat. “You’re taking a reading course this year, aren’t you?”

Foley nodded.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ali said, “They probably get loads of people who can’t read at first.”

“I can read a bit,” Foley said defensively, “I know a few letters and numbers.”

“Well that’s good,” Ali said quickly, “You’ll have a head start, then. Um, my aunt taught me to read a bit. If we get into the same class I could help.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not a problem,” he assured, “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly anyway, but if you want any help you can always ask.”

Foley seemed to relax a bit. “Thanks, mate. It’d be good if we shared a class.”

Ali nodded, giving him another pat. “I’ll ask Brother Ben about it,” he promised.

They turned as Patty came into the hallway. 

“Ready to go?” Patty asked, straightening his hat. 

“Yep.” He looked at Foley. “See ya.”

“See ya,” Foley replied. 

It had snowed during the night. Ali drew his coat tighter around himself and found himself wishing that he’d spent just a little longer in front of the fire before leaving the flat. He didn’t envy Foley, who had taken up shovelling snow for the District this winter for a bit of extra money. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.”

Ali looked at Patty, surprised. “Oh...no worries, mate.” 

“I feel like a dick. I was so rude to you guys.”

“I don’t think we’re feeling _too_ hurt,” Ali chuckled, “And besides, I don’t know every vampire. There could be loads of decent ones for all I know.” He briefly wondered why a decent person would get tattoos to leach out the lifeforce of other people and then mentally kicked himself. Maybe Patty had a vampire relative or something. Maybe there were loads of good reasons to get the tattoos. 

“Good morning!” Patty called to a mermaid that watched them from the canal below as they crossed the bridge into the Cathedral District. 

Ali had never seen mermaids before he came to the city. Visits from curious sea dwellers weren’t exactly common in his mountain village. He had no idea how they could stand to live in the icy water, watching humans all bundled up in thick coats rushing from one heated building to the next all day. At least mountain dryads were deciduous.

A group of priests looked up as they passed, pausing whatever conversation they were having to watch them. It wasn’t the kind of stare that made Ali feel like he was wearing a silly hat, or the curious stare the mermaid gave them with its inky eyes. It was the kind that made him feel like they were mentally dissecting him, wondering what he looked like inside like scavenger birds waiting for him to die. For a moment, Ali got the impression that if he were to be alone with them his family would never get to bury his body. 

He shivered and put his head down, following Patty to the administration building. 

“Is Brother Ben in today?” Patty brightly asked the priest at the front desk. 

“There are several “Brother Bens” here.” 

“Brother Ben…” Patty seemed stumped. “I don’t know his last name, but he’s new. And he teaches first aid.” 

“Hm…” The priest scanned a log book in front of them. “Ben _Langford-Biss._ Yes, he’s signed in. Check the library. If he’s not there, he reports to Brother Theodore. Try his office.” 

“Thank you! What did you need, Ali?”

“Oh, I’m looking for him too.” 

Ali wondered if Patty genuinely didn’t get a sinister vibe from the priests here or if he was just too polite to _not_ be friendlier than a puppy confronted with a grumpy old man. They seemed so different from the kind, caring priests at home. In this city they all seemed to _want_ something. Something they’d kill for. He still couldn’t shake the feeling after a year here. 

Brother Ben turned out to be easy to find. The library was huge, but an owl-beaked librarian had seen him come in and suggested that they might find him in the arcane languages section. They spotted him searching the shelves for something, glancing at the open book in his hand every now and then. 

“Brother Ben!” Patty called as they approached. 

He looked up at them. “Oh. Hi.” 

It occurred to Ali that he didn’t get the same creepy vibe from Brother Ben as he did from other cathedral priests. Secretive and unreadable behind his mask, but it felt more like _none of your business_ than _only the initiated can talk to me._

“How’ve you been?” Patty asked.

“Good, you?”

“Great! I’ve been wanting to thank you for everything, you were very kind to me.” 

“No problem.”

“Also, Ali wanted to talk too.” 

“You teach first aid, right?” Ali asked. 

Brother Ben closed the book he was holding. “Yeah.”

“I was thinking of taking it on. I have loads of free space in my schedule and Patty says he’s taking it too.”

“Really?” Brother Ben asked Patty.

“Yeah! Seems like a useful skill.”

Brother Ben nodded, taking a few books from the shelves and stacking them in a pile in front of him. “Good, good.” He glanced at Ali. “If you take your schedule to administration they’ll sort you out.” 

“Yeah, great…”

“Is there something else?” he asked, picking up the stack and starting for a writing desk just beyond the rows of shelves. He had a large scroll and various writing materials set up there, along with a few books on sigil work. 

“How much _reading_ is involved in the course?”

Patty seemed to spot someone he knew and left them, giving Ali a quick pat on the shoulder. 

Brother Ben put his books down and leaned back against the desk. “There are textbooks and things, but in my classes I plan to keep it to a minimum. It’s not like you’ll be able to go through your notes in a real emergency, so it’s best to memorise everything anyway.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“The cathedral offers assistance for those with literacy disadvantages and there are always people here at the library you can ask. It’s not a problem if you need any help. Are you taking any reading courses?”

“Brother Ben!” 

They turned to see a finch-beaked priest approaching them, followed closely by a fair-haired stranger. The priest bowed stiffly to Ali. 

“You _really_ need to pick up that letter from the Children’s Home.”

Ali could almost _feel_ Brother Ben rolling his eyes. “I’ll get to it. I’m a bit busy at the moment.” 

The priest crossed their arms. “Well, you have a visitor from the Home. He said it couldn’t wait.”

“Oh.”

The stranger stepped forward and bowed. “Ben Biss?”

Brother Ben bowed back. “Morning.”

“We’ve never met. I’m Reuben Ghastbury, your uncle.”

“ _Uncle?_ ”

Reuben smiled. “I hadn’t realised my sister’s son was still alive. The Home contacted me your inheritance.”

The other priest, apparently satisfied that they were no longer needed, bowed and left. 

Brother Ben bowed back. “Thank you, Sister. Um, what inheritance?”

“From your parents. They assumed I’d know something about it.” 

“Well...do you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been away for a long time. I didn’t really see them much in their last years.” 

“Huh.” Brother Ben gestured to Ali. “Well, I’m actually busy with a student right now. We should talk later.”

“Sure!” Reuben took a seat by the desk.

Brother Ben hesitated, but went back to speaking with Ali. “So about that course…”

Ali shook himself. Reuben gave him a weird feeling. “Yes! Um, Foley wants to take it too, I don’t know if you remember him from when you dropped Patty off.”

“Yes, of course.” He seemed insincere.

“Is there any way we can be put in the same class?”

Brother Ben tilted his. “Yeah, but I can only arrange it if you both have me as your professor. Otherwise you’d have to talk to whoever you request for the course.”

“We can request specific priests?” Ali vaguely remembered seeing something like that on the forms he’d first filled out for his other courses. He hadn’t really given it a thought since he hadn’t known anyone at the cathedral at the time. 

“Yeah, if you both put me down and tell me where your free spots are, I’ll see if I can sort something out.” 

“Great! We’ll apply soon. Thank you, Brother.” He bowed to him and Reuben and left. 

Patty hadn’t wandered far. He’d found a small group of other students to quietly chat with while Ali sorted things out with Brother Ben. 

“Oh, hey!” Patty pat Ali’s arm welcomingly and turned back to the group. “This is Ali, one of my flat mates this year.”

Ali bowed to the group. 

“Everything okay?” Patty asked him. 

“Yeah, yeah. Did you need him for anything else?”

“No, I just wanted to thank him.”

“Right, for that night you stayed at the cathedral?”

Patty nodded. 

“Well, I’m off to the medical wing, then.”

“Shall I come?”

“I actually have a lot to do today, I wouldn’t want to drag you all over the place. I’ll see you at home, though.”

“Okay! See ya! So you said your dad works here, Trisha?”

Even after all the times Ali had been to the medical wing, it still creeped him out. It was a place of healing, but a lot of people suffered and died there. Ali could feel it. 

“Name?” asked the gull-beaked priest at the desk for prescription pick-ups. 

“Testo.”

They flipped through the book in front of them. “Alistair Testo?”

“That’s me.”

They wrote something in the book. “Sister Beatrice!” they called, “Package for Alistair Testo?”

There was a pause as someone rummaged around in the room behind them, then an affirmation. Another priest emerged with a small paper bag. “Needles and hormones?”

“Yep,” Ali confirmed, taking the package, “Thank you.”

The priest at the desk waved him off vaguely, already asking the person behind him for their name. 

It wasn’t even close to noon yet. Ali could easily walk from the cathedral to Teddward’s in the Factory District, spend a few hours there and make it home before dark. He did like a good walk. 

Teddward’s Warepub was an old warehouse that had been converted into a pub and weapons range by an opportunist a few decades ago. It was popularly frequented by ex-soldiers and the likes looking for a place to meet, talk and keep their skills sharp in case they were drafted again, but they’d welcomed Ali warmly enough when he first started going. 

As he walked in, a kindly older woman spotted him and came over. “Ali!”

“Nans.” He bowed. “How are you?”

“Fine, fine, but I need you to challenge this prick, Charles.” 

“What? Who’s that?”

“A disrespectful little asshole that you could easily skin alive at hatchet throwing.”

“Oh...well, I need to warm up first.”

Nans nodded and left him to it. 

Usually, Ali started with knife throwing, but if Nans was asking him to challenge someone like this it was probably important. She was usually very sweet and slow to anger. He selected a few hatchets from a weapons rack and found a free target. 

He made a guess about who Charles was by the sound of someone loudly boasting and calling people hags, ghouls and other less tasteful names. He tried not to let it piss him off too much. He needed a clear head for this. 

When he felt used to the feel of the hatchets, he took them and approached Charles, a wealthily-dressed man surrounded by sneering, slightly less wealthily-dressed henchpeople. 

“Heard you threw hatchets,” Ali greeted. 

Charles lifted the one he was holding onto his shoulder, probably thinking he looked intimidating. “Yeah. Why?”

Ali shrugged. “Any good?”

“ _Very._ ”

“Care for a bit of friendly competition?” 

Charles smirked. “Sure.”

They went out the large doors to the outdoor targets set up behind the pub, the henchpeople and a few others following them out to watch. 

“If I win, you and your friends never speak that way about anyone here again.”

Charles laughed. “Is _that_ what this is about? Licking the feet of _these_ old fucks? Fine. If I win, you never come back here again?”

Ali shrugged. “Sure.”

“First to fifteen points. I’ll go first.”

Ali pretended that he couldn’t immediately tell that Charles’ posture was way off as he readied himself for the throw. The hatchet landed with a thunk, a few inches above and to the left of the bullseye. Fairly close. But Ali didn’t do “close.”

“Three,” Charles declared as if he were impressive, “Thought I’d go easy on you.”

“That’s good of you.” 

They moved on to the next target. Ali adjusted his glasses and took his time in straightening up, maybe showing the fact that he actually knew what he was doing just a _bit_. His hatchet landed dead in the centre, to a few small cheers from the crowd around them. 

Charles wasn’t smirking anymore. His second hatchet was closer, just over the line into the four point ring, but Ali’s next throw was, again, dead centre for a full five. 

By now he was visibly angry. He made a bad throw, his hatchet bouncing off the target with a thud and earning him a chorus of jeers from their audience. He stormed back inside without waiting to see Ali’s final throw, henchpeople following like a dark cloud. 

“Drinks are on me!” cheered Nans, holding Ali’s fist up.


End file.
